Pitch Black
by Kermit's Sister
Summary: A boy, a wand, and a lot of magic equals mayhem. This Sirius find out quickly enough, but will he discover what he's forgotten soon enough to save himself? What will he do when he finds that the world he knew is no more?
1. Ollivander's

Sirius Orion Lee Black was bored to tears. Well, not tears exactly, he corrected himself mentally. Tears were _girly_. Sirius, at the ripe old age of three and a half, had managed to tear apart the kitchen. By magic. It didn't help that he was being screamed at by both parents at the time and in great emotional distress, but now he was banished to his room. Sirius burrowed his face deeper into his pillow and sighed. _Why_ did these things always seem to happen to him? Gradually he drifted closer and closer to the world of dreamland.

An hour later, he was awakened with a start when a piercing cry shook the house to its foundation. Regulus, the baby, was awake and _very_ hungry. Sirius rolled over and got up. Out of sheer cussedness he bounced hard on the bed several times, causing dust to shake out of the navy colored velvet hangings, before landing on the floor. He sneezed mightily.

"SIRIUS! WE'RE GOING TO THE ALLEY! GET DOWN HERE, BOY!" his mother screamed up the stairs.

Sirius tied his shoes onto his feet proudly (he'd learned how to last week) and toddled out of his room, which was decorated with his great-uncle's old Quidditch posters, and down the stairs into the entrance hall. His mother had obviously vanished into the fireplace already, so Sirius grabbed a handful of Floo Powder. "Diagon Alley!" he said, throwing the powder down and stepping into the lit fireplace. With a whirl of smoke and a peculiar sucking feeling, Sirius sped past thousands of different fireplaces to be spat out into the Leaky Cauldron only a moment later. His mother was already there, tapping her foot impatiently. She adjusted the baby sling that held Regulus and grabbed Sirius's chubby hand, marching off. She unlocked the gate into the Alley proper with wandless magic and immediately steered for Gringotts.

They trotted up what seemed like a hundred thousand steps to Sirius and his short legs, finally making it inside the marble colossus that was the Wizarding bank of London.

A goblin stationed at the door directed them to a queue and they stood in line for what seemed like forever. Sirius wanted very badly to sit down by the time they reached the teller's abominably high desk; after his forced march and the long wait, his feet were nearly about to fall off. However, he knew his mum wouldn't like him "making a public _spectacle_ of himself," as she would say, so he stayed upright.

"Key, please," grated the hairy old goblin. The creature smelt of moldy cheese to Sirius, who wrinkled his tiny, childlike nose and squinted up his eyes in what he hoped was a passable imitation of his mother's supremely disgusted expression.

Without a word, Chara Arcturus-Black unclasped a delicate golden chain from about her neck and dropped it and their vault key into the goblin's wizened, three-fingered little hand.

"That seems to be in order, Madame Black, so if you'll just follow me…" it grated again. The thing sounded like it was carrying gravel around in its mouth. Wait, maybe it _was_ carrying gravel around in its mouth... perhaps it was a peculiar goblin rmemdy for... bad breath? Siirus shook his head regretfully. He'd have loved to find out, but for his mum. She spoiled a lot of his fun.

Chara, with an curl of her lip and a disgusted, superior lift of her eyebrow, followed the creature over to where the carts were, letting herself be handed into the cart by the goblin and then lifting Sirius in herself. In Sirius's mind, this was the best part of Gringotts- the carts were so much fun to ride in! Sirius loved anything that went ridiculously fast; his father jokingly called him his little future Quidditch player because of it.

All too soon, the little cart screamed to an admittedly violent halt in front of Vault Number Two Hundred and Sixty-One. Chara and the goblin got out, the goblin opening the vault door and then returning the key and its chain to Sirius's mother. Chara entered the vault, preventing Sirius from seeing what was inside other than a giant heap of Wizarding money and what looked like a rack of weapons. About forty seconds later, Chara emerged from the vault with a bulging money bag and a satisfied expression. Without a word, the goblin drove them up to the surface again. One they were standing outside the bank, Sirius's mum hauled her sons off down the Alley, halting in front of Ollivanders'.

"Sirius, I'm only getting you a wand to stop the accidental magic. If you use it in any way against another person or anyone else's belongings, it will be taken away and you will be _seriously_ punished. Clear?" Chara asked sharply.

"Yes mum," Sirius replied cheerfully, thrilled out of his mind. A real wand! It would be wonderful to not accidentally break things he liked (and some he really didn't) when he was angry, or inflate the house-elves when they didn't make food he liked, or turn people funny colors when he was displeased with them, or…

They stepped into the dank coolness of the wand shop.

"Madame Black and the young masters Black! Much earlier than I thought I'd be seeing you…" a mysterious voice came out of the shadows, soon followed by a man who looked to be a lot like the Gringotts goblins.

Sirius gasped. The man had magic flowing off of him in waves; it was almost corporeal. Ollivander chuckled.

"A powerful little one you have here, Chara. He'll make quite the wizard," said Ollivander, bustling off into the back at an imperious gesture from Madame Black.

He returned a moment later with his arms full of long, thin, remarkably dusty wand boxes and Chara sat down on the dusty velvet chair like it was a throne, cradling Regulus in her lap. Ollivander handed Sirius a wand that was practically taller than he was but snatched it away before Sirius even had a chance to give it a wave.

"No, no, how about ebony and basilisk fang?" The little man mutterd.

Another wand was grabbed away as a flowerpot exploded with a bang.

"Never, but what about yew and dragon heartstring?" the old man mumbled to himself, snatching that wand away and replacing it with another. This process went on for quite some time, with various devastating and amusing effects created by the wands.

Finally, Sirius was handed a _really_ long wand. It, despite being "Ebony, seventeen inches, werewolf and unicorn hair," had a peculiar luminescence that attracted the young boy at once. He waved the thing with quite an effort, creating a warm breeze that sent his dark hair into disarray and fluttered the curtains which hung above the window.

"Ah, yes," said Ollivander happily.

"Strange, though," the old man continued.

"None of your family has ever had such a peculiar wand, in the three centuries I have been supplying them… it seems you'll be destined for great things, young man," Ollivander said, bending down and gazing piercingly into Sirius's grey eyes.

Everything Sirius had witnessed up to that date flashed before his eyes and it felt like an iron vice was gripping his head- memories that were not his began to show themselves to him.

Another young boy that looked a lot liked him was born, grew up, lived, loved, died…

"Ahh… of course," Ollivander muttered. He handed Sirius a piece of parchment.

"You'll be back, mark my words, m' lord," he said, addressing the small child with a curious amount of respect.

"Er… back from where?" Sirius asked curiously.

"Never you mind just yet. Just remember this: when all hope is lost, _do not give up_," and with that, the man trundled off to the register, ringing the wand up at seven Galleons.

Chara paid and they left. Sirius was not to remember this incident for close on thirty years, and when he finally did it was nearly too late.


	2. Patronus

Sirius decided he had never been more alone in his life. He floated in a constant state of sensory deprivation, deaf, dumb, and blind. He did not know which way was up or down, or even where he was.

His last memory before he'd fallen through the Veil to wherever he was now was rather foggy; he had been dueling Bellatrix much as they used to do in school, when Bellatrix shot a _stupefy_ at him and pushed him through that curtain swaying in no breeze he'd felt. The last thing he had seen was the anxious faces; Harry and Moony and Tonks, all horrorstruck, and Bellatrix, gloating, triumphant.

And now he was stuck. "_Lumos_, **_lumos_**, **_LUMOS_**…" he whisper-shouted, shaking his wand, trying to get something, anything to happen.

Sirius considered his wand. His unique wand, given to him at three and a half. He did not remember if it was a family heirloom, like that of Regulus, or if it had come from Ollivander's. It still glowed faintly, even in the omnipresent, crushing darkness that surrounded and cocooned him. He wondered if he was doomed to stay here for all eternity, trying to get simple spells to work, to light up… to get him out.

"_Expecto patronum_!" he incanted, feeling the familiar rush of magic as he pictured James, Remus, Lily, Harry, Nym…

An enormous, silver werewolf that he liked to call Moony, after his friend, erupted from the end of his wand.

By the Patronus's faint luminescence, Sirius could see that he floated in crystalline manacles high above an archway in which a moth-eaten maroon velvet curtain fluttered.

"_Bombarda_!" he muttered at his left manacle. It shattered and quickly re-formed.

Moony circled him, snuffling. It cost Sirius barely any magic to sustain the Patronus; when he was an Auror he'd set the world record for the longest lasting spell; four hours, thirty-seven minutes, and six seconds of holding a Shield Charm, which was among the most draining of all magic, in place.

Sirius sighed. He put a good bit more power into his next spell than it was designed for.

"BOMBAAAAARDAAAAA!" He screamed, throat hoarse with emotion and magic.

The manacle disappeared. Only three more to go. Sirius put slightly less power into his next hex; he didn't want to get tired out and have to remain here any longer than necessary.

One more down, two to go. On the last one, his voice nearly faltered but he shrieked the curse like the madman the general populace thought him to be; he dropped forty feet to the ground and landed in a shivering magically exhausted heap.

Sleep would be good right about now. Oh yes, very good… he drifted off, the Patronus keeping guard on his prone form against whatever lurked in the shadows.

While he slept, his face and body rejuvenated. His cheeks filled out, his nose twisted back around from where Snivellus had broken it as a second year; whole again. His hair untangled and was sleek and shiny once more; his feet and hands, frostbit from years of bitter cold in Azkaban and barely useable anymore, repaired themselves; his skin, tattooed many times over, healed and was unbroken, unblemished, and smooth. His dark circles faded away and the calluses on his ankles from Azkaban's iron manacles faded away. His bones restored themselves. His scraggly beard vanished. His robes, where they were tattered and mended, shrank tight across the gaps and repaired themselves. Truly, once Sirius had broken the manacles on his mind, this was a good and magical place.

Still he slept. People went and came on the outside of the many times over the years; still he slept, guarded by his ever-faithful, ever-watchful Patronus. Harry and his friends matured; they fought Voldemort, Dumbledore was killed. Snape was killed. Mundungus Fletcher, Peter Pettigrew, and Rodolphus Lestrange were killed. Lucius Malfoy was murdered by his former house-elf. Voldemort was killed and Harry survived. Draco Malfoy redeemed himself and eventually married Padma Patil. Harry Potter and Ginny, the youngest Weasley, married. Ron Weasley and Luna Lovegood got married. Hermione Granger taught at Hogwarts for ten years before she was proposed to by the teacher of Defense against the Dark Arts, Remus John Lupin, whose wife Nymphadora had died, still young, in combat.

Seventeen years later, Sirius awoke. Clutching his wand, he stepped through the Veil into the Department of Mysteries, a new man.

* * *

Welcom to my little side project! Directly after I update this, I'll be updating my other current story, Reflected In Her Eyes. Sorry for the stupid title, but it was all I could think of.

Love and kisses (no, not really... :)

I found a guitar pick on the sidewalk today! Yipee!


End file.
